


Family Christmas

by dgdreamer



Series: The End is the Beginning [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Attraction, Bucky Barnes Dances, Christmas Fluff, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Fluff and Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Plays Piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgdreamer/pseuds/dgdreamer
Summary: Summary: The holidays bring people together, but saving the world sometimes breaks them apart. This is a story of laughter, love, loss, and becoming a family in spite of your differences.A Christmas Story in Three Parts:Decorating for Christmas can bring out the best and the worst in people. Sometimes all you need is compromise and a little bit of tradition. Lauren needs all of her negotiating skills to help with the first and she shares something of her past to supply the second. When they’re finished, they see that their differences create something beautiful and unique and that, when done right, discord can become harmony.Christmas Eve is the time for families to gather, but what happens when you don't have a family. Lauren and Tony spend some quality time together with music, sarcasm, and a very expensive bottle of bourbon and learn more about one another in the process.New Year's Eve is a time for beginnings... and sometimes endings. At the Tony Stark New Year's Eve Party (trademark pending), there's laughter, dancing, and, for some, a hint of loneliness. Things start to take a turn, but is Lauren ready for the direction her life is poised to head in over the coming year?





	1. Christmas Decorations

**Author's Note:**

> I know I promised that this would be up last night, but I had a hot date with Kit Harrington, Peter Dinklage, and a very nice bottle of some of Kentucky’s finest. It might not have been a productive evening, but it was enjoyable.  
> Again, thank you for the response to my work. I am inspired to keep going by how well some of these little stories have been received, and my imagination has been working overtime. I love reading the things that others write and can only hope to do as well with my storytelling as many of you. As always, A_Roz, you are the BEST! I wouldn’t have come up with some of this without you letting me bend your ear. You have my endless gratitude.  
> Now, with that said, here are the first two chapters of my holiday fic. These are all about getting ready for the holiday season. I have at least two other chapters all but done… Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Chapters 1 and 2 include the entire cast, but the rest of this fic centers on Lauren and Tony. I won’t give more away, just read and enjoy…

Lauren stared at the twinkling lights that illuminated the darkened common room as she had done almost every night for the better part of the last three months. Together, the team had spent hours making sure everything was just right, bickering and deciding just the proper way to celebrate the holidays, even though some of them had very few positive memories of the experience. They came from such different backgrounds and such varied experiences that it took the patience of a saint to work through all the pouting (mostly Stark) and shouting (take your pick) to get to a compromise. It had made Lauren glad she’d watched all the episodes of Supernanny that Coulson had sent to her StarkPad during her first month on the job. Now, nine months in, she had a better idea of how to handle preschoolers, which easily translated to the man-children that made up the majority of the Avengers.

When they had finally finished their work on that night two weeks before Christmas Eve, the room somehow represented them all in some way. Everywhere there were touches of Christmas around the world and through the years that separated each of them from their previous lives. The common room was dominated by an enormous tree, glittering, shining, and sparkling – decorated to within an inch of its non-existent life. Brightly colored tinsel hung like bunting around the walls and windows, providing a frame for the wreaths that hung on each window. Tony had even installed a faux fireplace, its purpose to give more ambiance than warmth, that boasted a collection of stockings “hung with care.” The mantle above it held a garland of pine and holly and nestled in their leaves and needles was an impressive display of _matryoshka_ dolls that smiled pleasantly back from their perch. Unsurprisingly, mistletoe hung in almost every doorway and alcove, waiting for the unsuspecting or careless to fall prey to Clint or Tony’s watchful eye. To complete the picture, wrapped packages circled the base of the tree, almost covering the lower branches, and spilled over onto and under nearby tables. In all, the Avengers’ common room looked like an overdone advertisement for Christmas excess.

As her gaze roamed the décor, some of which was a little worse for wear, Lauren couldn’t help but smile a little to herself at the memory of the days that had brought it to this state. Most of it had been easy, a simple matter of planning and hard work. Decorating the tree, however, had been the most frustrating, and still the most enjoyable, part of the entire process. First, there had to be a fundamental choice…

* * *

 

_*Two weeks before Christmas*_

“Only you would think that a metal monstrosity could be called a Christmas tree.” Steve’s voice clearly conveyed in incredulity.

“Things have come a long way since the forties, gramps. You can hardly tell the difference these days.” Tony shot back.

“It just doesn’t feel right,” Clint echoed.

“Doesn’t smell right either,” agreed Bucky.

“Look, a tree big enough to fit in here would need to be cut special for us. That’s not very green is it?” Tony was trying to appeal to their environmental consciousness now.

“True,” Bruce piped in, “would be a shame to take a tree that large out of the forest.”

“Tony,” Lauren reasoned, “maybe we could go for something smaller that we can have replanted later?”

“Rude.” He pointed at her, “Nothing about a Stark Christmas is ever small. It’s not in our nature.”

“You have another reason. Spill it, Stark.” Natasha had seen something and it only took a glance from her to get the man to talk.

“Fine.” Tony huffed. “Trees belong _outside_! You know, like in _nature_! Do you have any idea how many little creatures can live on, and in, one tree?” He gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought. “I already share living space with birds and spiders enough.”

After a long second of silence where they all just stared at him, someone began to laugh. It took a few minutes for them to regain their composure, but when they did, Lauren stepped in to make the first decision in the decorating process.

“Well, since Stark has something of a point, and apparently is afraid of bugs,” she smirked at him, “an artificial tree it is. Steve, we’ll find one that looks real enough for you, we’ll figure out a way to make it smell right,” she turned to look at Bruce and Tony, “since we do have a couple of brains who can do chemistry here, and we’ll make sure everything about it is environmentally friendly.” Lauren looked at the ceiling out of habit, though it wasn’t really necessary. “FRIDAY, can you make that happen.”

“It has been taken care of ma’am. It should be delivered and a team with the proper clearance will set it up tomorrow. Decorations will be ordered and delivered as well,” came the reply from the AI.

And, as promised, the next day a gigantic, and clearly expensive, artificial Christmas tree stood, centered on the glass wall that made up one side of the common room. Everywhere there were boxes, bags and packages holding decorations to suit every style and taste. There was something to be said for decorating on a billionaire’s budget. Especially when said billionaire enjoyed giving the people he cared about whatever might make them happy. As Lauren entered the common room, she noticed said billionaire standing in the middle of the chaos as if surveying a battlefield.

“FRIDAY, our usually pizza order, please. And let everyone know that they are expected here for lunch, beer, and team decorating.”

“Be careful, Stark, you might have to turn in your ‘Bah! Humbug!’ card.” Lauren teased as she picked her way across the room, peering into a couple of boxes as she went.

“Ah-Ah! No peeking, Sherlock! And I am no Scrooge. I love the holidays. Parties, eggnog, mistletoe.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a mere hint of suggestion.

“Awww, are you thinking of catching Cap under the mistletoe? How sweet!” Lauren’s smile was devilish.

“What? No! Cap?” Tony was sputtering. “Woman, you have been reading too much fan fiction.”

“But it’s so interesting… don’t you want to know….” Lauren never finished the question as Tony’s hand came across her mouth.

“Please. Never finish that thought. Just. No.” It was entertaining to make billionaires beg.

Lauren was laughing at him, but needed to breathe. In an effort to get him to let go, she licked a swipe up his palm. The reaction was interesting. At first, his eyes darkened just barely, then he seemed to recall himself.

“Gross! Did you just lick me?” He was wiping his hand on his jean clad thigh.

“A smart man would enjoy that.” Their exchange had been interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the team from a variety of directions. The comment had come from Bucky, who was exiting the door to the stairwell with Steve.

“Maybe Stark isn’t as smart as we thought,” Clint laughed as he dropped from the ceiling.

Bruce, Natasha, and Thor emerged from the elevator at that moment and looked around expectantly. No one clued them into the conversation, but Clint shot Nat a look that said he would share all later. Apparently, it was part of the partner code.

Without another word, and in spite of Tony’s protests, everyone started investigating the contents of the packages around them, commenting all at once and generally starting to have a marvelous time anticipating the coming holiday. When Steve and Bucky happened on a box filled with strings of oversized Christmas lights, they began planning how they should be placed on the tree. At the same time, Lauren and Natasha both exclaimed over lights that were white, miniature, and twinkled so they would look like stars among the dark branches. As a result of these discoveries, the first disagreement of the day erupted. The debate was short-lived, but hot, until it was pointed out that the tree was huge and it was possible that everyone could light it as they wished. Over pizza, the all worked to arrange the strings so that when they were finished the room was filled with the glow of color and sparkled with a thousand pinpricks of light.

“I might be able to land a quinjet using that,” Clint laughed.

“You might need to call the FAA, Stark, pilots coming into JFK might be blinded,” Bucky joined in.

“It is bright,” Lauren agreed squinting, “but somehow it seems right.”

“It brings to mind something I saw once on Vanaheim. The lights were said to be the guardian spirits of warriors past. It was considered a good omen.” Thor had spoken little during the process, but seemed to be comfortable and happy with what he was seeing.

“Good.” Tony clapped his hands together, ready to move on with the next step in their shared project, “now for the garland.”

“Tinsel,” Clint argued.

“Garland,” Steve and Bucky chimed together, agreeing with Tony.

“Garland is traditional, Stark, and we want to do the old fashioned way. Tell me you have popcorn in that kitchen that doesn’t go in a microwave.” It was clear that Bucky had his mind set.

“Popcorn?” Tony sneered.

“Yes!” Lauren jumped toward Bucky excitedly, grabbing his arm, “and cranberries. I remember my grandma always had popcorn and cranberries strung on her tree!” No one mentioned that a) she was holding onto the arm of a man who rarely liked to be touched; b) she had just compared him and Steve to her own grandparents; or c) she had actually mentioned her family and a piece of her personal history. They noticed, but they didn’t mention it.

“Do you know?... Why don’t we?... But that takes too long!” Tony whined.

“We’ll do the work. You and anyone else who doesn’t want to be on Team Garland can help Clint with putting his beloved tinsel somewhere, and work on the rest of the decorations.” Somehow Lauren had taken charge of the operation.

“Fine,” Tony huffed, “but Team Garland doesn’t get any say in what Team Tinsel does,” he pointed to Steve and Bruce who had moved to stand with her and Bucky.

“Fair,” Lauren agreed. “And FRIDAY, we need some music. Can you access my Christmas playlist? Play on shuffle.”

Groans came from several male throats, along with muttered comments about taste, preferences, and how Christmas music just wasn’t the same.

“Play nice, people. I think there’s something for everyone here,” Lauren cajoled.

A traditional carol played first, followed by something that varied on the traditional theme, but included more bass and a driving beat. Jazz classics and goofy novelty songs were included in the mix, along with some of the newer Christmas love songs. Soon everyone was having a good time, laughing, singing, and turning their common room into a Christmas wonderland. Even Thor joined in the revelry, helping reach the high spots and singing the choruses of songs he had been learning each year he remained on Midgard.

Lauren and Bucky had just finished a particular long strand of their homemade garland and were draping it on the branches of the tree when a tune caught her attention. Andy Williams began to croon, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” in perfect waltz time, and Lauren did a little dip and spin back toward the sofa and her work. She was surprised the Bucky’s arms caught her and he began to move around the room, leading her in a dance.

“Didn’t think I remembered how. Think I used to dance with a lot of dames back in the day.” Bucky’s serious face made a strange counterpoint to the lightness of his steps.

Trying to pull him out of the mood that was developing, Lauren cracked, “Call women ‘dames’ these days and you won’t be doing _any_ dancing, hot shot.”

“Not many _ladies_ dance like this anymore, anyways. Just a lot a jumpin’ and bumpin’” The Brooklyn came out in his speech so strongly sometimes.

“Hey! Don’t knock it, Barnes. There’s something to be said for a little bumping,” Tony chimed in.

Lauren laughed at them as Bucky continued to spin her around the edges of the room, expertly avoiding the obstacles in the way. For some reason, she felt more lighthearted in that moment than she had in many years. In a move she had no idea she could accomplish, Bucky released his hold on her back, and using his hand, spun her right into the arms of an unsuspecting Tony Stark while scooping up an equally surprised Natasha for her own circuit around their makeshift dancefloor. As they danced away, Bucky threw back over his shoulder, “Dance with her, Stark, show her your moves.”

It only took a second for him to take up that challenge. Unfortunately for Lauren, it took two for her mind to register the change in situation and get with the program, so she stumbled a bit at his first steps.

“Sorry,” she winced, looking up into his characteristic smirk, trying to feel much more settled that she felt.

“I often have that affect on women. My level of awesome _is_ pretty overwhelming.” He almost leered at her.

“You’re an ass.” Lauren felt much more sure of herself now that they were finding familiar footing, both figuratively and literally.

“So I’ve been told,” was his simple reply. Then he swept her into the continuing swirl of the music.

After a couple of turns, Lauren ventured to speak to him again. “You’re a better dancer than I expected, Stark, how many other hidden talents do you have?”

Lauren noticed the hint of amusement in his brown eyes. She realized then that she had left herself wide open for a heavy dose of innuendo, Stark style. She mentally braced herself for what might come next. She wasn’t prepared at all for his next words.

“Not a hidden talent. My mother made sure I could do the Stark name credit on the dance floor. Something that’s pretty much required at all those benefits and galas she made me attend.”

Lauren decided then to return sincerity for sincerity. “You do your mother very proud.”

This time it was Tony’s turn to stumble in his steps, more of a slight stutter really. As he regained his momentum, he stayed quiet. The moment seemed to stretch on, until, just as the song ended, he muttered, “Thank you.” Lauren somehow knew he didn’t mean just for the dance.


	2. Christmas Decorations: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decorating for Christmas can bring out the best and the worst in people. Sometimes all you need is compromise and a little bit of tradition. Lauren needs all of her negotiating skills to help with the first and she shares something of her past to supply the second. When they’re finished, they see that their differences create something beautiful and unique and that, when done right, discord can become harmony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I divided this into two chapters to make this easier for you to read. Yes? No? Just let me know which way works for you. I am at your service.

“Ms. Lauren,” FRIDAY’s voice cut in over the music, “a package has arrived for you. Perhaps you would like it delivered here instead of to your quarters?”

“Is it from upstate?” Lauren asked. If it was, then she had a surprise for everyone.

“It is, ma’am,” the AI confirmed.

“Yes, please send it up. And please tell anyone handling it to be careful.”

By this time, the garland was done and the others had finished most of the rest of the decorating in the room. It was a good thing, some of them were starting to get tired and no matter how much fun they were having, there was only so much time they could spend in one another’s company before someone got testy. It was also time for dinner. Again, much like toddlers, tired plus hungry plus cooped up in one space with the same people for too long usually equaled conflict. They ordered in again, spending the time waiting for food by clearing up the empty boxes and packages from their day’s work. When they were all seated around the coffee table, munching on Chinese food right from the cartons, and taking a few minutes to relax, Lauren pulled out the parcel that had been delivered earlier. As she opened it, she began to speak.

“Guys, I hope you don’t think this is weird. I haven’t known you all that long, six months, but in my family, we had a tradition.” She paused, noticing the curious looks from several on the team. “Yes, before you ask, I had a family. They were good, but they’re gone. Let’s leave it there.” Her tone left little room for argument, and if anyone in the world understood what she was and wasn’t saying, it was this group.

“Anyway. We had a tradition where each year every member of the family got a new ornament to add to the tree. They could mean something or just be a stupid joke, but the point was to give us all something of home when we went out on our own.” Lauren broke off there, choking down the emotions she didn’t expect. “So,” she continued feeling a bit more calm, “since we’re a team… well… I hoped we could start something like that here.”

She was met with stunned silence. No one even moved. She wasn’t sure what emotion hung in the air, but the room was thick with it and she was ready to take her gifts and retreat to her room when Steve finally relieved her growing panic.

“Doll, I think that’s perfect. Is that what that is?” he indicated the box at her side.

“Yeah, I was going to just put them on the tree later without saying anything, but this has been such a good day, I wanted to say ‘thank you’ in some way.” Lauren reached into the packing materials that protected her offerings and brought out the first of the hand-blown glass ornaments she had commissioned weeks before. It was fate that her hand had reached Steve’s first. The colors were his iconic red, white, and blue, but the rings of the orb ran vertically, alternating in color and varying in intensity so that the effect was softer and more inviting than the image of his shield. Steve took it from her outstretched hand and held it gingerly, seemingly afraid that he would shatter the delicate thing should his hands cover it completely. He hung it on the tree almost reverently, turning back to her with a smile that could have melted any heart. Tony’s ornament was, as expected, red and gold, but inside was a tiny replica of his arc reactor. Though it held no light source, the artist had achieved a glow in the color that made it difficult to believe wasn’t real. Shaking his head, Tony moved to hang his gift, on the opposite side of the tree and higher than Steve’s.

Each of the others received their ornaments in turn, hanging them where they could be seen from their favorite parts of the room. For Natasha, the orb was smoky grey, not black, with just a hint of red highlighting the glass. The surface was crossed by faint silver lines in an irregular web, only visible when the light caught them just right. Clint’s was purple, not solid, just barely opaque, so that the collection of small silver arrows that trembled suspended in the glass could be seen. For Thor, Lauren had chosen red, although in a different shade than Tony’s and with silvery streaks of lightening crafted into the surface.

Lauren had taken special care in choosing designs for Bruce and Bucky. They were men who lived their lives in a strange duality that made them both prickly and vulnerable. For Bruce, Lauren had worked especially closely with the artist. His ornament consisted of what could only be called diminishing columns of glass, all joined at top and bottom, but wider at the bottom so that the effect at the top resembled a teardrop. The spaces between the columns were open, as was the center, giving the whole thing the look of an abstract temple. The glass on the exterior of each column was purple smoked glass, while the interior was a clear green. Where the two colors met, the glass was a brown that was almost the color of his eyes. By the look in them as she handed the gift over, the symbolism in the whole was not lost on the man. Bucky’s orb was the last to emerge. In Lauren’s mind, it was the single most difficult to design and get right. The pattern was irregular, but still striking. Flashes of blue and black chased hints of grey and silver over the entire surface of the orb, except where the glass remained as clear as crystal. It was slightly dark and disorganized but drew the eye into the spaces and into the depths of color on the other side. When Bucky took it from Lauren, he spent several minutes just staring at it intently. At last, he stood, and before moving to hand the ornament on the tree, placed a kiss on Lauren’s forehead.

 

After dinner was done, they finished putting decorations on the rest of the tree. They were a mix of things both wildly expensive (Tony had spent a small fortune at places Lauren didn’t realize sold Christmas decorations.) and homemade (Steve is a sap, sometimes.), with a little bit of everything in between. There was even a set of collectible Avengers ornaments that someone had thrown into the mix. The process started quietly, everyone still affected by Lauren’s thoughtful gift, but as they worked they regained their earlier playfulness.

When they were hanging the last of the ornaments, the discussion turned to how they should top their creation. They agreed that, traditionally, an angel or star would crown the tree, but since most of them weren’t religious, and they actually lived with an Asgardian who had been worshipped as a Norse deity, it might be disingenuous to adopt such an obviously Christian symbol. Everyone stood around the tree, putting in suggestions. Thor wanted to use Mjolnir, Tony was ready to bring up a helmet from one of his suits, Bucky suggested using Clint as a topper (Clint begs you not to ask!), then Lauren spotted a box of ribbon that had been pushed aside during their work. She pulled out several spools and began to wind them together. When she had finished, there was a cloud of color in the form of a huge, multi-looped bow that trailed off into streamers designed to cascade down the sides of the tree. She handed it to Thor, the tallest of them, who looked at it at first with a puzzled expression. As understanding dawned, he mounted the ladder nearby and secured it to the central vertical spike at the top of the tree. Lauren adjusted the trailing ribbons without a word to the others and stood back to study the effect. Objectively, the riot of color should have been garish, but the gold, blue, red, purple, green and black flowed together, bringing the lights and decorations in all their varied hues together in a way that made harmony where there should have been cacophony. Looking at it, Lauren couldn’t help but think that it was somehow emblematic of what they were as a team. Separately, they were messy, disorganized, and more than a little chaotic. Together, however, their individual turmoil merged into something strangely beautiful.

From somewhere Tony produced a bottle of champagne and filled a glass for each of them. They toasted the season and friendships old and new and took the time to soak in their changed surroundings. They had less than a half-hour to admire their work, and for Clint and Bucky to try to maneuver someone under the mistletoe, to give it a “test run,” before they were interrupted. First, there were the sounds, the tones of several phones buzzing, chirping, and ringing. Almost before any of them could be answered, Fury and Hill stepped off the elevator and into the common room.

“Now we’re being Scrooged!” Tony pointed a finger at the newly arrived pair, “How did you get up here? FRIDAY?”

Fury ignored him with barely a glance. “Some of you are needed for a mission. Top priority or I wouldn’t have barged in. Coulson will brief you when you get there.”

Everyone moved with practiced ease, already mentally preparing for what might lay ahead. Fury laid a hand on Clint’s chest as he moved toward the elevator.

“Not you, Barton. You’re still not cleared through medical. Stark, you’ll be missed if you’re gone too long, and Banner…” Fury was already moving.

“No need to explain.” Bruce was used to not being included on long-term missions.

“Director?” Lauren didn’t often go out with the team, but she was unsure how her role in this situation.

“Yes.” Fury didn’t turn around.

“I’ll be here if I’m needed.” That she didn’t receive instructions should have been instruction enough.

“Noted. Coulson will be in touch.” And with that, they were gone.

* * *

 

_*Three months later_

And so the holidays had been put on hold as far as Lauren was concerned even before they’d arrived. Lauren hadn’t liked being left behind, but her skill set was of better use as support, and she still had Clint, Bruce, and Tony to keep her occupied when she wasn’t working. Sometimes though, research and analysis sucked… sure, she wasn’t being shot at, nor was she dealing with weird aliens or facing down giant flying spiders of boom and doom, but when things got quiet on the other end she started to predict what could happen from what she knew. She had been read into the mission, knew where they were and why what they were doing was taking so long, but this was the longest they’d been out since she joined the team.

With a thought, Lauren pulled up short. “Shit!” she cursed under her breath. She stood there, locked into place as she realized what was happening. This wasn’t just a team to her anymore. She usually didn’t fret about a team. She trusted them to do their jobs, and if someone got hurt, it was part of what they had chosen to do. It was sad, and a little troubling, but mortality was their reality. This was different. And then the reasons why she’d kept the common room in perpetual Christmas became abundantly clear… this was family. At some point, this team she had joined had become important to her, and she cared deeply about every one of them. A part of her wanted to panic, to run far away so she didn’t need to deal with what came with her discovery. This was something she had avoided for a long time. Sure, she made friends and was friendly, but this was different. These people mattered to her, mattered in ways that people hadn’t for a very long time. Her first instinct was to hide, or run, it was what she did when things got too emotional,  but then her eyes caught the tree again, and the bedlam in her head smoothed into calm…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up... Christmas Eve! There will be lots of Tony/Lauren interaction... I hope you like it. This is going somewhere, I promise, but it's going to take some time. Be patient. It will be worth it.


	3. Christmas Eve: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve rolls around and Lauren and Tony spend some time together... music and bourbon are involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of the developing relationship between Lauren and Tony. This is going to be a slow burn... but I promise flames are being fanned. 
> 
> As usual, many thanks to A_Roz, who has spent hours helping me work through all my developing ideas. She's asking about the smut, but some things can't be forced. It's in the plan :-)
> 
> Now... let's make a little Christmas!

As Lauren stood staring at the Christmas tree and dealing with her own personal epiphany regarding how she felt about everyone, Clint strolled in, face pulling into a scowl at the sight of the one room in the Tower that seemed to be stuck in a time warp.

“You know it’s March, right.” He turned to Lauren, pointing at the window as if to show her that spring was on its way even though it was dark outside. “Time to put all this mess away and catch up with the rest of us.”

“Haven’t we had this conversation before?” she paused, not really expecting or waiting for an answer. “Yes, I believe we have. Nothing’s changed in two days, so lay off birdboy.”

“That was Stark…” Clint began, but Lauren cut him off.

“…and yet my answer remains the same.” Lauren clearly remembered the argument. Tony had made some sort of remark about Christmas being over. He’d even offered to have everything packed up for now and then returned the minute they received word that the team was on their way back. He just wanted to “clear out the junk” in the meantime. The conversation had ended with her throwing a metal Iron Man ornament at him and  bursting into tears. Not exactly her finest hour. She never cried, but sleep had been limited and the team had been silent for more than a week and tension was running high. The poor man had retreated to his lab after that, muttering something about “feelings” and the loss of “one of the few rational women in the world.”

“Hey, I just don’t think the team would be happy if they knew you are sitting here pining away for them. Or is it not the whole team you’re pining for?” Clint elbowed her gently in the side, teasing now. He and Stark often made remarks to her about Steve and Bucky in the hope that she was nursing an attraction they could use to their advantage. “Has the Captain made a conquest?” he moved around her to peer at her face; she gave nothing away. “Or are you thinking about your own personal Winter Wonderland? Hmmmm?”

Lauren rolled her eyes. “That the best you got? ‘Winter Wonderland’?”

“Oh, maybe it’s both?” Clint tried. “A little OT3 action there?”

“You’ve been reading too much fanfiction.” Lauren huffed.

“Who sends me the links?” Clint sent back, laughing.

Lauren flopped down on the loveseat nearest to her, pulling her legs half under her until she was curled into the cushions and pillows. “Clint, go away, I am NOT pining… and for the thousandth time, there is nothing going on with me and Steve… or Bucky... Or the three of us,” she stopped him quickly. “I’m just thinking about them, all of them, and praying to whatever higher powers that are listening to bring them back soon. Okay?”

“Okay, but at least take down some of the decorations. I feel like I’m stuck in a twisted Dickens plot. It’s creepy.”

“NO!” Lauren shouted, tired of having the same argument for weeks. “My family didn’t get to have Christmas, and it’s the first thing we’re going to do when they all get home…after food and showers, of course.”

“Family? We’re a team, not really a…”

“Family, damn you… we’re a ridiculous, dysfunctional, irrational, impossible, disastrous, argumentative family. And we’re all we’ve got, in case you haven’t noticed, and until everyone gets back, this room stays like it is!”

Clint sat down beside her, not yet admitting defeat, but willing to defer more conflict. He smiled as he leaned back on the plush upholstery, “You know, I think this is just where I found you when I came up here on Christmas morning…”

* * *

 

_* Three Months Earlier (Christmas Eve)_

For Lauren and the few who For Lauren and the few who still inhabited the upper floors of Stark (Avengers’ – yes, they were still having that argument) Tower, it was just another Tuesday. Since the rest of the team had disappeared with Coulson two weeks before, those left behind had buried themselves in work. It wasn’t like it was intentional. It was more like they just fell back into their regular pattern of behavior, leaving the approaching holidays unnoticed.

Bruce’s behavior was the easiest to understand. Over the years he spent running and hiding from the people who wanted to either lock him up and use his as a lab rat or kill him outright, he had spent most of his time in places where the Christmas holidays weren’t celebrated  at all, and any who might have been inclined to do it were so poor that they had no means to anyway. Without thought, he just kept doing what he always did, working on experiments and projects and basically taking care of himself without much fanfare.

Clint, because he will swear he’s not sentimental even though he was secretly looking forward to a holiday season spent doing fun things with people he likes, did what he could to stay busy. After all, more often than not he’d been out on missions on Christmas and New Year’s Eve, so he was used to it. When he wasn’t busy catching up on his backlog of paperwork (getting hurt on a mission created mountains of it), he entertained himself by terrorizing (It’s training!) new recruits, spending time on the range making adjustments to accommodate a few new aches and pains his latest injury left in his body, or (this seemed to be a favorite) crawling around in the vents with a sprig of mistletoe just waiting for unsuspecting people to wander under his perch. Fury had been less than pleased when a grinning Clint appeared, hanging by his knees from the ceiling vent above he and Lauren as they stopped to speak to one another in the hallway. Fury’s exact words might have been, “What the fuck, Barton! I will turn you into the human speedbag if you don’t get the fuck out of my way!”  

Tony Stark was what he was. He didn’t say much, wasn’t seen much, and, as usual, buried himself in his work. He was, after all, still head of R & D for Stark Industries and that brought with it a certain amount of responsibility. He was also Bruce’s ScienceBro and couldn’t wait to get lost in some theoretical discussion that would give birth to some experiment or feat of engineering that only the two of them would understand until they had either neared the project’s completion or blown up yet another lab. To fill in the rest of his, mostly waking, hours, Tony worked to develop and improve all kinds of tech for the whole team. He was always upgrading the suits, trying to make them lighter, faster, and more maneuverable, and everyone else needed replacements and upgrades as well. Over the two weeks before Christmas, he disappeared, sometimes for days at a time, only to emergee when the “Pepper Protocols” kicked in. He would be locked out of everything until he ate, showered, and at least made an attempt at sleep. Lauren did find him occasionally, he still needed to sign things. They had kept up their Sherlock/Irene arrangement through the summer and fall. It had been enhanced by having FRIDAY announce her arrival by interrupting Tony’s metal du jour with Eric Clapton’s rendition of “Goodnight Irene.” He grumbled that he hated it, but there was something in his eye that betrayed his fondness for the inside joke they shared.

Like the rest, Lauren buried herself in work as well. She spent a big portion of her time alone, working on whatever data came in from Coulson and his team. She was usually just a second set of eyes and rarely needed to do more than concur with the findings of the original analysts, but it did give her something to keep herself occupied. She emerged from her office or apartment, wherever she’d chosen to work from on any particular day, at random intervals, as did everyone else. Because no one was keeping regular hours, day often merged into night until the passage of time and the date on the calendar seemed irrelevant.

It wasn’t until Lauren decided to had out of the Tower to get the one thing she couldn’t convince FRIDAY to have delivered to her that she became aware of what day it was. She was waiting in line to pick up a pack of cigarettes, listening to a rocking version of Joy to the World play through the store’s tinny speakers when she happened to glance up at the wall behind the woman behind the counter.

“One pack gonna do ya?” the clerk asked impatiently

“Yeah,” replied Lauren automatically, “I’ll come back tomorrow if I run out.”

“Not gonna be open tomorrow. Christmas.” The woman’s answer surprised Lauren. It had snuck up on her. She wondered if anyone else realized that day it was. Christmas Eve and no one was back yet. They needed to do something to mark the day, but Lauren didn’t feel much like celebrating.

She made her way back to the Tower, deciding to cook something for dinner. Something that could be prepared and left on the stove to simmer or reheated later would be good. Lauren spent the elevator ride debating soup or chili, knowing that whatever she needed for either would be available in the ridiculously large and well-stocked pantry in the common area. By the time she reached the upper levels of the building, she had decided that chili was just the right thing. She hoped everyone liked it spicy, because that was the only way she knew how to make it.

Within an hour, she had finished putting everything together and cleaned up her mess. She let the put bubble on the stove, allowing the flavors to meld together as long as possible before being eaten, and went to the bar for a drink. Taking her own bowl and spoon, along with a glass of bourbon onto the balcony, Lauren had FRIDAY send a quick message to the men to let them know that there was food to be had if they wanted it. Noting the distance between the bar and the balcony door, Lauren had placed the decanter of bourbon on top of the piano that was situated nearby. She refilled her tumbler on her way back from taking care of her dinner dishes, prepared for a long-awaited after dinner smoke.

There should have been snow. Or a Christmas miracle that brought everyone together just in time to usher in Christmas Day together. Or some kind of personal Christmas epiphany that brought lonely people too long in denial together in a deep meaningful way. Had life been planned and scripted, one, or more, of these things might have happened. But life isn’t a Hallmark movie that blindly follows tropes to a happy ending. Sometimes the ending isn’t so happy, and more often than not, you get a “…to be continued…” rather than a sweet and tidy conclusion. Sometimes what you get is an unseasonably warm Christmas Eve night with a tumbler of really good bourbon and a solitary smoke on a balcony high above New York City.

By the time that she’s emptied the glass again, she had finished her first cigarette and then another. She had, after all, poured the second one very generously. She was on her way back in for another refill, when she was brought short by a surprising sight. Tony Stark sat at the piano, softly playing and singing a Christmas song about separation and loss in such a way that Don Henley himself would have been proud to hear. A nearly empty glass of his own sat near the now noticeable less full decanter that was the original object of Lauren’s attention. As he half-sung, half-hummed the lyrics, _“So won’t you tell me you’ll never more roam/ Christmas and New Years’ will find you home/ There’ll be no more sorrow, no grief and pain/And I’ll be happy, happy once again”_  Tony noticed Lauren approach and reach for the liquor.

“Those things will kill you,” he nodded to the balcony, still playing.

“Well, longevity is not something we’re known for in our line of work,” Lauren replied.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” he looked a little offended that there was something else he didn’t know.

“I haven’t in years, but I’m a little stressed. So, it’s either these,” she held up the mostly full pack of cigarettes, “or eat that mountain of sweets that somehow appears on my desk every day. Now, you wouldn’t know anything about those would you?”

“Just wanted to bring a little Christmas cheer into the building. Have them sent to all the department heads and VIPs in the Tower. Usually they’re shared with teams. Didn’t think about you being a team of one.” He smiled apologetically.

“Thank you for the thought, but those uniforms aren’t very forgiving. It’s nice of you to do that. You know, you are a pretty nice guy.”

“Please don’t let that get out,” Tony paused in his playing, “You’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” Lauren smiled at him, taking a sip of her drink. “And the smoking is part stress relief and part teenage rebellion. I’m still pouting that I’m here and not out with the rest of the team.”

“Hey, we’re the rest of the team,” Tony complained, “and we’re the cool kids.”

“You’re the nerds, Stark, no doubt about it. And I didn’t like hanging with the nerds. I was more the rebel without a cause type.”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for that.” He looked her up and down. “You’re a smartass, yes, but you are more farm raised and corn fed than motorcycles and black leather.”

“What you don’t know, Stark.” Lauren moved to sit beside him on the long piano bench, back to the keys. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be off somewhere with Ms. Potts making a little Christmas.”

His words were hesitant, and carried just a hint of the sadness that had colored his earlier tune. “No. She’s in California with her family. We’re… uh… taking a little break.”

“What?” Lauren was genuinely stunned. They seemed like an unbreakable couple. The Iron Couple. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe. What happened?” She felt like she needed to say something.

“She said she needed some time to think about the whole Avenging, Iron Man thing. She’s not sure she can handle me getting back into it. If she can deal with not knowing if the next fight is going to be my last.” The whiskey had obviously loosened his lips.

“I get that. It’s got to be tough for her.” Lauren agreed.

“She asked me to stop…be a consultant… work in the background, like you. I agreed.”

“How did you feel about that?” Her simple question seemed to stun him for a moment.

“You sound like my therapist,” Tony huffed out.

“Don’t insult me like that. There’s not an empathetic bone in my body. Take it back or I’ll tell everyone that you’re a nice guy.” Lauren hoped the empty threat would lighten the mood.

“Liar. You just don’t want anyone to know you’re a softie. We both have secrets, sweetheart.” His attempt at Bogart was an abysmal failure that made them both laugh.

“Speak for yourself, cookie man!” They continued to laugh together, Tony pouring each of them another drink. “You know, someone once told me that I was like a burnt marshmallow.” He looked at her in confusion, so she continued. “A little crusty and bitter on the outside, but sweet and gooey on the inside.”

Tony raised his glass in mock salute. “Then here’s to us – the founding members of the ‘Burnt Marshmallow Club’.” They toasted their newly formed club and each knocked back a sizable swallow of their drinks. Tony began to play another song, something that was vaguely familiar, but somehow off just a bit. It could have been their club song, but neither one of them would probably remember it the next morning if they continued at this pace.

“So, not to be indelicate, but will Pepper be back for the Stark New Year Party? After that epic shopping trip we took to get our outfits, I’d hate for her to miss it. And thank you very much, by the way, a woman on my salary could never have afforded that dress and shoes.” Lauren lifted her glass again in gratitude.

“Don’t mention it. Oh, by the way,” he stopped playing long enough to reach under the bench, “I got you a little something.” The box he placed on her lap was blue, Tiffany blue, and tied with a pristine white ribbon. Lauren turned halfway on the bench, placing her glass on the top of the piano and looking at Tony with a puzzled frown.

“Tony,” she breathed, “whatever this is, it’s too much.”

“Just open it.” He didn’t look up from the keys.

Lauren carefully untied the bow and unwrapped the gift. When she had the paper undone and opened the package, she found a clear glass Christmas ornament that carried just a hint of the shade that Tiffany had made famous. As she lifted it from the padding where it was nestled, she noticed words etched around the circumference of the globe. Before she could begin to read the words, Tony began to recite them.

“ ‘It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important’. It’s a quote from the book. Sherlock Holmes. It makes me think of you.” He paused to take another drink, looking uncomfortable. He continued on, speaking in his usual staccato, “Well, you gave us ornaments. You didn’t have one. I decided you needed one. So, go hang it up.” He motioned her over to the tree.

Lauren rose slowly, cradling the delicate ornament in the palms of her hands, afraid that if she touched it too much it would shatter. She found a place, and held her hands under it momentarily just to be sure that it was secure before retaking her place at the piano.

“Thank you, Tony. It’s lovely.” Lauren spoke softly, her voice just barely above a whisper.

“It’s nothing. Just didn’t want you to be left out, Sherlock.” He brushed her off with a slight wave of his hand.

Lauren gathered up the wrappings, folding the paper and the ribbon neatly before placing them both in the now empty box. Tony watched her with a puzzled expression. Lauren caught it and realized that he didn’t understand what she was doing.

“I’ve never had anything from Tiffany’s before. I’m keeping it all.” She chuckled at him as he looked even more confused.

“Never?!” he sounded shocked.

“Not all of us are billionaires, Stark. Most of us get our bling from the chain stores at the mall.”

“Sacrilege! Blasphemy! No one should be subjected to those places.” He sounded truly affronted, and Lauren couldn’t help the laughter that burst from her.  

“Stark, one day I’d love for you to know how the other 99% live. Seriously!” She needed to catch her breath she was so struck by his amazement at what most people considered normal. As she regained her composure, or what was left of it considering how much alcohol they had consumed, they lapsed back into silence. Tony continued to play random snippets of tunes he knew with Lauren humming along now and then as accompaniment, both of them sipping their rapidly dwindling drinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 will be posted soon. I need to do a little something with it first...
> 
> Thank you to everyone has been reading. I appreciate all the kudos and comments in this universe. 
> 
> If there's something you want to see, please let me know
> 
> Happy Christmas!


	4. Christmas Eve: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more Lauren and Tony drink, the more they share... eventually, it's going bring about some interesting topics. That Christmas morning selfie... yeah, that's going to need an explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this went in several directions before I finally got it to this point. The next couple of chapters are going to lay some groundwork for the relationship smut that is to come ... but we still have some plot points to get to before that happens. 
> 
> Stick with me, please [insert Steve's best puppy dog eyes] patience will be rewarded. 
> 
> Now, onto the action...

“Stark, one day I’d love for you to know how the other 99% live. Seriously!” She needed to catch her breath she was so struck by his amazement at what most people considered normal. As she regained her composure, or what was left of it considering how much alcohol they had consumed, they lapsed back into silence. Tony continued to play random snippets of tunes he knew with Lauren humming along now and then as accompaniment, both of them sipping their rapidly dwindling drinks.

“So,” Lauren began after several minutes, “New Year’s? Ms. Potts? Party? You distracted me, but I haven’t forgotten.”

“Why do you care?” his voice was dejected, but with an edge.

“Call it curiosity… call it being prepared… call it, I don’t know, friendly conversation.” Lauren blew out a frustrated breath. “Damnit Stark! I’m trying to be a supportive friend here. I’m not good at it, so help me out here and just answer the question.”

“She will. Be at the party, that is. The PR team doesn’t think we should do anything to raise gossip if there’s nothing official.” He stopped playing to rest his elbows on the top of the piano, head in his hands.

“So you’ll make a joint appearance, mingle for a while, make a show of the whole kiss at midnight thing, all so the stockholders don’t panic. That sucks.”

Tony chuckled in spite of himself, pouring both of them another drink. “Yes to the first two. I don’t think even I could pull off that last one without giving the whole thing away. If it were anyone but her…” He trailed off, taking a long gulp of the bourbon, almost emptying the glass.

“I get it. So, you both disappear at midnight and everyone is either too drunk to notice or assumes you wanted privacy or something?” Lauren filled his tumbler again, noticing that the decanter was almost empty. She rose on slightly unsteady feet and moved back to the bar for reinforcements. 

“That seems to be the plan.” He noticed her searching for something. “Cabinet behind you and to the left, press on the button under the second shelf. Grab the Old Fitzgerald. I’ve been meaning to drink it, and now seems like a very good time to do it.”

Lauren found the button he mentioned, which triggered a panel that slid aside revealing several bottles of whiskey that were clearly both old and expensive. She pulled the one he mentioned from the shelf, noting it’s age.

“Is there ever NOT a good time to drink 70 year old bourbon?” she asked, cradling the bottle to her chest and moving back to her place.

“When you’re drinking 70 year old scotch!” He held out his hand for her prize.

"Point. So, that’s where you hide the good stuff?” she pointed to the still open panel.

“Some of it. You and Barnes are the only ones who like bourbon, and you usually stick to the decanter. Romanov likes her Russian swill, and anything I don’t want to share at all is well hidden.” Tony opened the bottle and poured each of them a liberal amount.

“Don’t let Nat hear you calling her vodka ‘swill’.” Taking her glass from Tony, Lauren gave a mocking half bow and in the worst fake British accent crooned, “Dear sir, I appreciate your generosity.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear, what’s a few thousand dollars between friends,” came Tony’s reply in the same accent and tone. Laughing again, they clinked their glasses together and drank.

Lauren let the flavor of the whiskey fill her mouth, rich and warm with just a hint of chocolate and fruit until she led it slide down her throat to warm a path where the previous bottle had burned. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste of something that very few people would ever experience. When she opened them, she was staring directly into others, these nearly the same color as the whiskey she held in her hands. Almost immediately, he retuned his hands to the keys and began to play, just a few notes and chords at first, but then the tune became more recognizable as he turned his head and asked her the question from the song.

“So, what are you doing New Year’s Eve?”

“Well,” she drew the word out, “I hear these parties of yours are legendary, so that’s on the agenda. Other than that,” she shrugged, “nothing.”

“No date?” He raised his eyebrows in question as he continued to play.

“Stark, I have lived here for six months. How many dates have you seen me go on?”

“None, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have any.” He was trying to make her think that he didn’t know almost everything that happened in his Tower.

“None,” she confirmed simply.

“None? Not even a drunken hook-up with some guy in a bar?” His face was incredulous and blame it on shock or drink or a combination of both, but the next words slipped out of his mouth in true Tony Stark fashion. “You haven’t had sex in six months?!”

“I’ve lived here for six months.” Lauren supplied.

“And? Like you couldn’t have tapped… wait… you mean it’s been longer than… How are you still functional? Don’t people die from lack of sex?” He was now gaping like a fish. A fish with some very interesting facial hair.

“There’s more to life than sex, Tony.” Lauren pointed out.

“Blasphemy!” He stopped playing to point a finger at her. “And spoken by someone who has obviously never had truly spectacular sex.” He peered at her now, clearly a little worse for all the alcohol they had consumed in such a short period of time. “Have you ever had truly spectacular sex? I could show you truly spec…”

Lauren threw her hand over his mouth before he could finish that statement. “I’m done with this topic, Stark. Now, I’m going to go outside and have another smoke while you and that genius brain of yours think about something else to talk about.”

Tony nodded his understanding and Lauren stood up on unsteady feet. She would be lucky if she made it outside without falling on her face, but she needed both a distraction and some separation. They had put away quite a bit of bourbon together, and if she had let him continue with his thoughts things could have gone in a direction that wouldn’t have been good for either of them. Taking a deep drag of her cigarette to calm her raging thoughts, Lauren considered his almost voiced offer more carefully. Yes, the man had a reputation for sexual escapades. Yes, he was extremely attractive. Yes, she was definitely attracted to him. But no. No, she would not be the one who screwed up any potential for he and Pepper to work things out. No, she would not be anyone’s rebound, not even Tony Freaking Stark. And, no, she was not going to put this team dynamic in jeopardy just to satisfy her physical urges and burning curiosity. Decision made, Lauren turned to go back inside.

As she moved through the door, she heard the same song Tony had been playing only a few minutes before, only this time he was singing. He looked directly in her eyes as he sang the lines: _“Oh, but in case I stand one little chance/Here comes the jackpot question in advance/What are you doing New Year’s?/New Year’s Eve?”_ He held the closing notes on the keyboard and seemed to wait for her answer.

“I told you,” she managed to respond, “going to your party… Alone… unless someone asks in the next week. Someone who doesn’t already have a date. You, my friend, are going with Pepper. You’ll smile and pose for the cameras. You’ll schmooze with the right people, and you’ll be the charming asshole you always are.”

“And at midnight?” he asked, “Who gets the first kiss?”

Lauren couldn’t return to her previous seat. The tension was just too thick in the room and she’d had way too much to drink. She half collapsed into the loveseat that was facing the Christmas tree. “Maybe Nat can help me corner some poor unsuspecting schmuck to help me out.”

“Lucky man…” Tony mumbled half under his breath, but still loud enough to almost be heard.

“What? Did you have a suggestion?” Lauren raised her eyebrows with the question.

Tony rose from the piano bench and perched on the arm of the loveseat at the opposite end. “Um… no… well… What about Barton?” He offered.

“Ewww…no… That would be like kissing my brother! Gross!” Lauren rejected this option without thinking. And since when did she start letting Stark find men for her to kiss. This night was getting weird.

“What about one… or both… of the old soldiers?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “They might remember how.” He turned toward her, placing both socked feet on the cushion beside her.

“First,” she countered, “I think Steve will be otherwise occupied. Second, Barnes is another brother and this ain’t Westeros, Stark. And third, do you know something I don’t know. ‘Cause they aren’t back and we don’t know that they will be back.”

“Oh, yeah. Wait, otherwise occupied? Who? Well, how about…”

Lauren cut Tony off with a glare. “How about you let me worry about it, and you get back over there and play me a song ‘Piano Man’!”

As Christmas Eve became Christmas Day, Tony played whatever came to mind. When he had exhausted his memory, or to be more exact lost interest, he had FRIDAY work through the playlist they had used when decorating two weeks before. They shared most of the bottle of bourbon, sipping away at it as they talked, until eventually they were comfortably curled up on the loveseat together, Tony spooned behind and almost on top of her, his back against the loveseat, open bottle and their tumblers resting on the floor. The haze of alcohol and pull of exhaustion had finally lulled both of them into a heavy doze just before dawn. Their peace was broken by the insistent buzz of their cell phones, which lay beside Lauren’s head where it nestled into a pillow resting on the arm of the loveseat.

Lauren grumbled at the noise, but Tony, being more accustomed to the affects of a night spent drinking and much less accustomed to sleep, reacted by grabbing both devices and shoving hers into her hand and under her nose at the same time. Knowing that any time two of their phones went off at the same time could mean problems, Lauren reacted. Opening one eye, she thumbed at the screen to bring up the notification. Behind her, she could feel Tony mirroring her motions. It was a text from Natasha.

Quickly entering her access code, Lauren opened the message. It was a picture of all of them sitting around a makeshift Christmas tree, a small fire nearby. The “tree” was really just a branch stuck in the ground and hung with a collection of bottle caps and emergency glow sticks. They were smiling. The message only said, “Merry Christmas!”

Suddenly, Lauren felt very much like bursting into tears. She heard Tony’s snort and shifted to look up at him. Apparently he had received the same or a similar message, since he was rolling his eyes and trying hard to look like he didn’t care. His phone buzzed again.

“They want a Christmas morning picture.” Tony spoke as he positioned them for a selfie.

“Tony, no…” It was too late. The image had already been captured and sent before her brain had registered what was happening. “Do you have any idea what they will think when they see that?” Lauren glared at him, pointing one finger toward his phone.

He took a minute to look her over. She knew her hair was sleep mussed, her eye makeup smudged around bloodshot eyes, and her clothes looked like they had been slept in (because they were). Tony’s normally perfect coif was sleep rumpled and there was a crease on his cheek where it had been pressed into her shoulder.

Tony huffed out a laugh, “They’ll think we were sleeping together. Then they’ll spend the next several hours debating your good sense and my moral character. Cap and Barnes will be ready to defend your honor, while Falcon will defend your ability to make you own decisions. In the meantime, Romanov will text you to get the full scoop while watching the others with that smirk of hers. What they will not debate, sweetheart, is my ability to help other people to make some pretty poor life decisions.”

“You do have skills,” Lauren realized then what he had said, “and don’t call me sweetheart.”

Rising from the loveseat with a groan and a pop of his spine, Tony snagged the bourbon from the floor placing it on the bar. His phone buzzed again. Pulling it from his back pocket, he thumbed at the screen, a series of emotions playing across his face. When he finished reading the message, his expression changed into one of casual blankness.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren croaked, afraid that something was wrong with the team and she hadn’t been notified yet.

“Nothing. Just an unexpected update.” His dark gaze met her lighter one, face still revealing nothing.

Without another word, he stepped toward the back of the loveseat where she still sat and leaned over. Brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead and leaving behind a feather light kiss, he murmured, “Save a dance for me next week, okay?” He waited for her nod. “Merry Christmas.” He didn’t allow her to vocalize any response. She wasn’t sure she could have anyway. With a small smile, he just walked to the elevator that opened for him immediately and disappeared. Lauren fell back against the cushions with a head and heart that were pounding in time with one another.

* * *

 

_*Three months later…_

“Christmas morning… and all Santa brought me was a hangover.” Lauren huffed out a remorseful laugh.

“That’s what you get when you let Stark play Santa.” Clint tried hard, and failed, not to sound too amused.

“Well, at least you and Bruce know some great remedies. I was almost human again by lunchtime.”

Clint wasn’t about to let the subject go. “So, you and Stark. On this loveseat. It’s been cleaned, right?” he teased.

“How many times…” Lauren started, “… and just how did you and Bruce know about that?”

“I can’t believe you are just getting around to asking that. Some analyst you are!” Lauren pinched his side in retaliation. “Ouch! Okay. Nat sent us the selfie Tony sent her. Wanted to know ‘how we could let something like that happen?’ As if you would be insane enough to actually sleep with Stark.” He grunted at the thought.

“We are not having this conversation, Hawkass.” Lauren didn’t know what he was trying to get at, and she wasn’t going to let him get close enough to the topic to try. Clint decided on a different tack.

“So, about these decorations…” he began.

Lauren pulled out her phone and unlocked it, pulling up the image they’d all received on Christmas morning. “You see this?” She tipped the screen so he could see. “If this,” she indicated the image, “and this,” she pointed to all the decorations, “don’t change, then they’re all alright.” She caught his disbelieving look and interrupted him before he could speak. “I know it’s irrational, and everyone around here is starting to think that I’ve finally cracked under pressure, but moving on just seems wrong.”

“But, darlin’, what if something happened?” he reacted to her short intake of breath. “You know the risks. How wrong will it be to have all this here then? Don’t take a chance on totally ruining the holiday for yourself.” That Clint Barton was being rational and sincere should have made the world tilt on its axis, but it didn’t. It grounded Lauren more fully and helped her realize that she needed to let something go.

Lauren closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to spill over as she whispered, “I’m not taking down the Christmas tree! The rest can go, but I want to keep us all together there.” She pointed to the ribbons and ornaments that reflected all of their colors. “As long as we’re all together, then everyone is okay. Okay?”

Clint looped his arm around Lauren’s shoulders, pulling her to him and resting his cheek against the top of her head. “Tomorrow, we’ll start cleaning up.” She nodded silently against his chest. He exhaled a long breath, relaxing with her. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered as they let the lights twinkle on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thanks to those who are reading. Please check out all the parts to this epic adventure. There will be more action, adventure, friendship, fluff, smut, romance, and family. 
> 
> The next scene will be New Year's Eve. There will be surprises and some feels. Get ready. 
> 
> I wish all of you the best this Holiday season... for those of you who are spending it with friends and family... enjoy. For those of you who are feeling a bit lost and lonely this year, this is me sending out much love. No matter how bad things get, remember, you are the only you there is and you have a purpose. You matter!


	5. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for the annual Tony Stark New Year's Eve Party (trademark pending) and Lauren is determined to make an appearance and then bring in the New Year alone. She has some surprises coming... on New Year's and beyond. She only hopes that she isn't making too many mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is a very long chapter. I just couldn't decide where to break it up, so, here it is. This is the beginning of something big for Lauren and Tony, but, I warn you, it's going to be a slow, slow burn. It needs to be, since they're both idiots who don't do feelings. 
> 
> As always, thank you to A_Roz, who talks me through ideas. Sometimes she gets what she wants, and sometimes these characters just speak for themselves. And another thank you to my best kid... who tells me when my jokes are lame and keeps me up to date on what people my age don't normally know. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, please leave kudos and comments, I seriously want to know what you think.

Sunlight filtered across the bed from where Lauren had forgotten to completely close the drapes on her bedroom window, warming her with mid-March sunshine that held the promise of the Spring that was right around the corner. Easter was just a few weeks away, so it was probably good that today was the day they would finally take down most of the Christmas decorations she had insisted remain in the common room until the rest of the team’s return. Lauren winced at her own stubborn sentimentality that has kept them there. It had been a long time since she had given into that side of herself, but somehow she couldn’t keep from doing it when it came to the tree and this team.

“What is happening to me?” Lauren chided herself in a low voice. “Living here is making me soft, and now I’m talking to myself. I’ve got to be losing it.”

Getting dressed and making her way to the kitchen on the common floor, Lauren struggled to put her thoughts in order and tamp down the emotions that threatened to rise. Feelings! If she had one thing in common with Tony Stark, it was that she didn’t do feelings. At least not where people could see. Coffee. That’s what was needed first. Life always made more sense after coffee.

After she inhaled the first cup of that miraculous brew, Clint strolled into the kitchen, scrubbing the back of his head with one hand and looking just as muddled as Lauren had felt just a few minutes before. She silently handed him a steaming mug and waited for that first rush of caffeine to kick his brain into gear.

“Stark had some boxes sent up. Where shall we start?” Clint mumbled while pulling down a box of cereal from the cupboard.

“Wreaths and tinsel first.” Lauren answered, scowling a bit as he shoved his hand into the box and pushed a handful of cereal into his mouth. “Have you ever heard of a bowl and spoon, Barton?”

“Yeah, but this way is faster and no cleanup,” he deadpanned back.

“Neanderthal,” she huffed, only slightly annoyed with him. “Now you’ve put your grubby mitts in there, no one will want any of that.”

“And now you know my master plan,” he smirked. Lauren only rolled her eyes in reply.  “And now you look like Stark.”

Lauren decided not to dignify that with a response, since she knew he was trying to goad her and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction until she had at least one more cup of coffee in her. She moved to the living room area and started picking up random objects that screamed “Christmas,” placing them on the long dining table to be wrapped for the next season. She heard Clint moving toward the windows dragging a ladder to help him reach the decorations that were placed high along the edges of the room and a box. She looked up, just as he was dropping a wreath and tinsel down from the heights to land tangled haphazardly together.

“What are you doing?”

“Pulling this stuff down and boxing it up?” he looked at her as if puzzled by her question.

“Together? And in a mess?”

“Yeah, we can sort it out again when we take it out in eight or nine months,” he grinned at her.

Lauren moved to the box, pulling at the tinsel that was looking a little faded and frayed for all the time it had been hanging. She looped it around her hand as she untangled it from the wreath, finally dropping it into a pile next to the box so that it could be thrown away later.

“You really are a slob, aren’t you?” she laughed at him. “How about you take the stuff down and put the wreaths on the table and put the tinsel in this box so we can toss it, hmmm? I’ll take care of this other stuff while you do that.”

“I hate how organized you are, you know that,” his grin belied his words.

“I’ll remind you of that the next time you need me to check a requisition for you, Barton,” she shot back.

After that, they worked mainly in silence. The occasional scrape or squeak of the ladder and the rustling of paper as Lauren wrapped some of the more delicate items the only sounds. They were making fast work of the room, pulling things down and packing them away much more quickly than they went up. Lauren had gathered everything they had scattered about the room already and was moving to the mantel to take away the décor there. She had already taken up the bigger items, including the Matryoshka dolls, and was unwinding lights and garland from around the hangers for their stockings, which still hung there half-filled when Clint spoke up again.

“You taking those too?” he indicated the sock like decorations in question.

“No, they’re part of the gift thing, so we’re keeping them.” There was no room for argument in her voice. “Besides, we’ve been stuffing them since December. We need to leave them.” Clint moved away to shift some of the full boxes into a pile to be removed later while Lauren continued removing the tangled lights. She thought about the set of sketching pencils she got for Steve, who would use a plain old #2 down to the nub  if someone didn’t get him the good ones. Thor bless his little Great Depression sensibilities. He deserved better. Then she smiled at the thought of Bucky’s stocking stuffer, a copy of “The Sarcasm Handbook,”  not that he needed the practice, but he would find it hilarious and would use it on every available occasion. Probably with her.

It was then that Lauren shifted her own stocking, feeling the weight of it and peering inside just a bit. It was against the rules to peek, but she couldn’t resist, knowing already that there was a package wrapped in distinctive blue and white hiding in there. After all, she’d caught Tony slipping it there when he thought no one was around on New Year’s Eve…

_**Three months earlier_

By the time Lauren arrived at the annual Tony Stark New Year’s Eve Party (trademark pending) she was later than she had planned to be. She knew she wanted to be fashionably late, not because she wanted to make an entrance ala Tony Stark, but because the less time she had to spend there the better. Most of her life she had remained in the background, trying not to be noticed, and the habit had left her with a firm distaste for public events, and after all, most of the people she could have expected to dance with were still gone. Staring at her own hazy reflection in the polished metal doors of the elevator she tried to shake herself out of her little pity party, trying hard to summon up the confidence she usually had no trouble with.

Straightening her back and pasting on a casual smile, she stepped through the doors of the large ballroom of Stark (Avengers) Tower and into the noise of a party already well underway. A waiter approached with a tray of champagne flutes, and Lauren took one almost unconsciously as she surveyed the room seeing many faces that were familiar, celebrities, politicians, SI employees, and a few SHEILD people that she knew. Working her way around the room, she paused to speak to a few acquaintance, but as most of them were coupled off, she didn’t linger long, feeling awkward being a third wheel.

A touch at her back made Lauren turn slightly from the end of her conversation with the head of SI’s payroll department and her date. Clint stood at her side, dressed more formally than she had ever seen him. His charcoal grey suit, black shirt, and tie was tailored to perfection and made his eyes appear bluer than normal. He was returning the assessing look she was giving him with one of frank approval.

“Nice dress,” he smirked, “you clean up real nice.”

Lauren knew she looked better than he’d ever seen her too. Her red knee length silk dress fit her well, sleeveless and V-necked, it showed off her curves flaring out slightly into a fuller skirt decorated with beaded embroidery that caught the light as she moved.

“Thanks, Barton. You aren’t looking too bad yourself.” She gave his tie a quick twitch in a familiar way.

“Yeah, that’s what I hear,” he smirked as he twitched his shoulders slightly. “Shall we?” he offered his arm to guide her further into the room. They stopped several times to speak with people, including a few of the female celebs that recognized him as “Hawkeye” and seemed very excited to meet him. When he introduced her, Lauren noticed that some of the anticipatory gleam died from their eyes. She caught on to what he was doing after the third up and coming actress walked off disappointed.

“Are you using me as a human shield, Barton?” she teased.

“Uh…” he shifted his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, “well, maybe. Is that alright?” He looked at her with a pleading expression.

Lauren had to laugh, she just couldn’t hold it in. “Are you sure? I mean, that last one seemed to like you a lot, and she might have been interesting to talk to. Don’t you want to get laid?”

“Are you kidding me?” he looked confused. “She just wants to bag an Avenger to up her visibility. I’m not into that.”

“I am kidding you, you dork,” she tightened her arm that was still linked with his. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the adoring masses.”

“Thanks. I think,” he pulled them over to the bar. “Let me buy you a drink to show my appreciation.”

They got their drinks, bourbon for both of them, and stood making comments about the people around them, sharing gossip and trading sarcasm. The longer they stood there, the more Lauren noticed just how uncomfortable Clint was in spite of how good he looked, twitching his collar and cuffs and adjusting his tie. Lauren couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Barton, how in the hell can you hold one position for hours on a mission, even in the worst conditions, and still squirm like a six year old in church because of a suit.”

He looked shocked at being caught out. “I feel like I’m suffocating in this thing. Everything about it is constricting. I like to be able to move,” he complained.

Shooting him an unsympathetic glance, Lauren responded, “I have two words for you, Barton, stockings and heels. No compassion here.”

Before he could reply, Bruce walked up to the bar beside them. He was dressed well, in a dark suit, light blue shirt and a slightly darker tie. In spite of his obviously well-made clothing, he still carried that slightly rumpled aura about him that made him simultaneously approachable and adorable. He greeted them both warmly, but his unease at the crowd and the noise was apparent.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted them, “you both look nice.” His eyes lingered just a moment taking in Lauren’s appearance.

“Thank you, Bruce,” Lauren smiled at him, “it’s nice to see you. I thought I’d be stuck looking at Barton’s mug all night.”

“Glad to come to your rescue then,” he inclined his head in a mock bow as he took his drink from the bartender.

“Hey! My mug’s not so bad!” Clint argued.

Lauren ignored him again, taking a sip of her drink. “Now that were all fortified, shall we mingle?” Lauren held both elbows out as if to escort them away from the bar. The two men laughed, taking her hands and looping her arms through each of theirs before moving into the throng. They spent the next hour or so talking and occasionally sharing a dance. They were doing their best to have a good time, but they all knew something was slightly off…the rest of the team wasn’t there.

The trio was soon joined by Phil Coulson, who looked, as always, calm and confident, and was regaling them with a tale of how he had to lead an extraction team for Clint and Natasha, finding the two wet and naked and Clint with a bullet lodged neatly in his left buttock. Clint himself was adding first hand details to the story, making Bruce and Lauren shake with laughter. It was then that Lauren caught a glimpse their host and hostess, Tony and Pepper, nearby as they made their rounds, as was expected. She looked for any sign of a change in their relationship time out that Tony had told her about on Christmas Eve, but she found none.

Tony has made himself scarce in the week since Christmas, and she hadn’t needed to bother him for paperwork, so she hoped their ease with one another meant they were back together. As a gap formed between the people separating Lauren from her view of the opposite side of the long ballroom, she could better observe the unmistakable pair weaving their way through the crowd. Pepper looked every inch a queen, or a goddess in her one shoulder floor length gown, and was leaning forward slightly as she greeted a small, elderly woman with a handshake and peck on the cheek. Tony stood to her right, left hand resting lightly on the small of her back in a familiar way. His trademark thousand watt smile was in place, just visible as he stood slightly in profile to Lauren’s vantage point. He appeared every inch of his normal, charmingly arrogant self in a suit that probably cost more than most people made in six months, but something in his posture was off. She couldn’t tell what it was, but something wasn’t quite right.

Lauren then noticed that Tony’s best friend, Rhodey, was also there, moving along with them, sometimes shifting Tony away from Pepper and sometimes shifting Pepper away from Tony, but always running interference. She didn’t know him well at all, had only met him once or twice as he passed through the Tower, but she could tell that he cared deeply for both of them by the way he protected them from any awkwardness they might have been experiencing.

She lost sight of them a short time later as the ebb and flow of the party continued. Her happy trio had been separated as they each joined in other conversations going on around them. Somehow, Lauren soon found herself talking with some politician she had been introduced to by someone else she had just been introduced to. She couldn’t help but think that party networking was really a bitch sometimes, especially when you get stuck talking to someone with an ego the size of Stark’s but none of the charm to make it remotely palatable.

She was saved from hearing another boast about some legislative triumph by another touch at her back. Expecting Clint, Lauren blurted out without looking, “What, do you need another human shield?”

“Not exactly what I had planned, but we can improvise.”

That was not the voice she thought she’d hear. Lauren turned quickly, staring straight into the smiling face of the one and only Tony Stark.

“And what exactly did you have planned, Mr. Stark?” she tried not to let her surprise show in her voice.

“I think you promised me a dance on Christmas Day, and it’s bad luck to break a Christmas Promise,” he took her hand, excusing them from the surprised man, and led her to the dance floor. As they started to move to the music, she huffed a small laugh.

“That’s not a real thing, Tony, but thank you for the save.”

“I say it’s a real thing, and I am a superhero, after all, saving people is kinda my shtick,” his smirk was a welcome sight.

“My hero,” she breathed out in her best damsel in distress voice fanning her face with one hand. With a laugh, Tony spun her further across the floor.

“Nice dress, by the way. Iron Man red, huh?”

“Just red, Tony. Pepper has great taste. And thank you, I never could have afforded this on my own.”

“Worth every penny, Sherlock. I hope someone has told you tonight how incredible you look.”

“You’re the first, and at the risk of inflating your already sizable ego, you aren’t so bad yourself.” Lauren gave him an admiring glance.

“This old thing,” he rolled his eyes, “it’s been in my closet for a month at least.”

“It’s good to see you, Tony, how have you been?” Lauren couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, but she could still sense something was wrong.

“Me, awesome, it’s been a good week,” his voice had its usual good humor, but the smile he flashed her wasn’t quite real.

“That’s good, just haven’t seen you around.” Lauren wanted to know more, but a crowded dance floor was not the place for that kind of conversation. He seemed to pick up on what she really wanted to ask as her glance strayed to where Pepper danced with Rhodey nearby.

“Figuring it out there, Sherlock?”

“Starting to.” Lauren couldn’t think of anything else to say when she realized that things were not right between the couple. The rest of the dance was spent in silence.

The song ended and Tony led her off the floor, right up to Rhodey and Pepper, who were already standing off to the side.

“Lauren, it’s good to see you,” Pepper leaned in for a brief hug, “and you remember, Rhodey, of course.”

“Of course, Colonel Rhodes, it’s nice to see you again,” Lauren shook his hand.

“Please, Rhodey’s fine,” he smiled back sharing a look with her. Lauren was feeling awkward, knowing what she knew, but knowing that no one else knew she knew… except Rhodey, of course.

“Thank you for the dance, Tony, and for the save. I owe you one.” Lauren smiled at the other two as she turned to make her way back to the bar for something to soothe her jangled nerves happy to escape. Emotional drama had never been something she handled well, and as short as that scene was, it was packed with tension.

Drink in hand, Lauren noticed that it was creeping closer to midnight and people were starting to pair off, finding their dates or significant others to wait for the countdown to the New Year. Scanning the sea of faces, she noticed that Bruce and Clint had disappeared, as had Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey. Taking her cue, she decided to slip away herself to avoid the uncomfortable moment one always feels finding themselves alone in a roomful of kissing couples.

Slipping off her shoes in the elevator, she debated on going back to her apartment or finding something else to keep her occupied until the buzz of the party left her system. Without thinking, she hit the button that would take her to the common room. The bar there was always stocked, and the balcony would provide her with the noise of the millions of people celebrating in the streets and a prime seat for the fireworks display that was a staple of Stark’s parties. Tonight she didn’t want to be in the crowds, but she didn’t want to feel as alone as she would if she were in her empty apartment.

Movement caught her eye as she prepared to cross the large room and fix herself another drink. She reacted quickly, her training kicking in automatically as she assessed a possible threat. She froze in the shadow of a wall, slipping the shoes she still carried to the floor, and waiting for the figure across the room to move into the glow of the still burning Christmas tree lights. He moved toward the stockings hung from the mantel, with something in his hands.

“I thought Santa already came.” The figure started at her voice, but quickly recovered.

“He dropped this one and had to make a second run.” Tony slipped the distinctive blue and white box into her stocking.

“It’s too much, Tony.” Lauren motioned to the now invisible box.

“Yeah, well, you’ll only see the one for a month or so out of the year. This one you’ll get to enjoy more often.”

Lauren decided not to argue. She knew it wouldn’t do her any good and might even make him become more ridiculous with his behavior. She changed the subject. “So, what are you doing up here anyway? Other than playing Santa, that is?”

“Ten minutes ‘til midnight, and it was the plan remember, Sherlock?”

“Disappear, yes, I remember that’s what you said, but why here? I would have thought you’d be at your place.” She moved further into the room.

“No,” the reply was simple, but not curt.

“Pepper went there, right?” Lauren was starting to understand.

“Yeah, she’s with Rhodey. I couldn’t be up there.” He sounded defeated, something she had never heard from him before.

“So you decided to hang out here all alone?”

“Well, I am good company,” he tried to sound more like himself than he had before and failed. After a pause, he admitted, “And I had a feeling you might show up.”

“Think you know me that well, do you?” Lauren didn’t know why the words gave her a strange fluttering in her chest, but it felt good that he wanted her company instead of hiding away in his lab as he usually would. He was obviously hurting, so she tried to keep the mood lighter. “I just thought I’d grab that bottle of champagne you have stashed behind the bar and watch the fireworks from the balcony. You have the best view in Manhattan, Stark. Shall we share it? ”

Lauren moved to the bar, locating a bottle of champagne in the mini-fridge and pulling out two champagne flutes. Tony held the door for her as they moved onto the balcony, taking the bottle from her hands as they approached the railing. He made short work of the cork, and she held the flutes while he poured.

“FRIDAY, give us a countdown.” Tony placed the bottle on a nearby table and raised his glass to clink quietly with hers.

“T-minus five minutes and counting, sir.”

The sounds of the city below them were muffled, but the noise of millions of people who filled the streets to celebrate the New Year was still apparent, even this high up. Times Square was nearly a mile away, but Lauren still imagined she could hear the music and laughter that was sure to be deafening up close. Neither of them spoke or moved other than to sip from their glasses, leaning on the balcony railing and staring out at the city that doesn’t sleep.

“T-minus two minutes and counting, sir.” FRIDAY’s voice cut into the silence. It seemed to break a wall and Tony started to talk.

“We’re going to make an official announcement this week to the Board. All the usual assurances that Pep will continue as CEO even though we’re not a thing anymore. No need for me to fuck that up too. I’ve fucked up enough shit in my life.”

“I wish I knew what to say, Tony. I can’t tell you it will all work out, and I can’t lie to you and tell you that things will be easy. You know me better than that.” He choked out a half-laugh. “What I can tell you is that we’ve all fucked shit up in our lives, and the best we can do is learn to live with it and do the best we can.”

“Voice of experience?” he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“More than you know,” she looked him in the eye with all the sincere sympathy she could muster. “But, it’s New Year’s Eve, and my best guess is that we have about a minute to go until the ball down there drops. So how about we save the rest of this heart to heart for another time? It’s not what we want to be doing all year.”

“What?” Tony appeared confused.

“Sorry, another family tradition,” she explained. “My grandmother always said that whatever you’re doing when the New Year comes in is what you’ll be doing the rest of the year, so you better be doing something you enjoy.”

“I think I like your grandmother’s line of thinking,” he smiled a real smile at her. Not the one he flashed for the cameras or the crowds, but the one that reached his eyes.

“One minute and counting.” FRIDAY warned.

Tony reached for the champagne bottle and filled both of their glasses, raising his slightly in a toast. “Here’s to the founding members of the Burnt Marshmallow Club, may the new year find us a little more sweet and a lot less bitter.”

Smiling, Lauren raised her glass and stepped close enough to touch it his and looked into his eyes, “And to not fucking too much shit up.”

“Cheers.”

Neither of them moved as they drank to each other and to a better year ahead. A tiny drop of champagne lingered on Lauren’s upper lip and she swiped her tongue up to lick it away. Tony’s eyes followed the motion, then looked back into her own. Neither of them noticed that FRIDAY had begun the traditional ten-second countdown as they stood there. Lauren knew what he was thinking, hell, she was thinking it herself, and damn, didn’t half the women and men in the world want to kiss Tony Stark, if for no other reason than to see if those lips felt as good as they looked. But this wasn’t really the best time, she didn’t want to start another year with another big mistake.

And then it was happening. His free hand came up to cup her cheek, while his head moved toward hers. It started with a gentle pressure of his lips on hers, and then deepened into something else, more pressure and a cautious movement. Her hand slid to the lapel of his jacket gripping as she parted her mouth in a moan and then his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting her. He tasted of champagne and the scotch he had obviously drunk earlier and something else that was definable only by the word “him.” Lauren struggled for conscious thought, but his arms pulled her to him firmly and she was lost.

A cheer from the city surrounding them and the explosion of fireworks brought them both crashing back to reality. The kiss ended almost where it began but with them still pressed together from chest to knee, with her hand trapped between them, still fisted in place. Lauren’s thoughts and emotions were tumbling around her head as she tried to process what had just happened. That kiss shouldn’t have happened. He wasn’t in a good place, and she had no desire to be Tony’s rebound conquest. But it had felt so good, so right. And she was a terrible person for not doing the right thing and stopping it before it got out of hand. But it was one kiss, right, nothing to get so upset about. This man had kissed thousands of women, it was nothing to him. She should be able to handle it like an adult.

“Happy New Year, Tony,” Lauren backed away slightly, leaving the circle of his arms.

“Happy New Year, Sherlock,” Tony’s grin was back.

_**Three months later_

And that had been that. They had finished the bottle of champagne while they watched the fireworks without speaking or touching again. When they were over, she had left for her apartment with a muttered goodnight, and the next day, and for every day after that, it had been as if nothing had happened. Life had resumed, and all was as it had been before. They worked, they argued, and they moved on. Lauren didn’t know if she was happy that the moment had been forgotten or disappointed that it had meant so little to him. It really shouldn’t have meant so much to her. After all, it was a very bad idea for her to get involved with anyone. Tony Stark wasn’t the only person who was really good at fucking up their life.

“Hey, you almost finished over there?” Clint’s voice drew her back to the present. That’s right, there were still a few decorations to be packed up.

She dropped the garland into the nearest box and closed it with a sigh. How had she gotten so sentimental so quickly? Not long ago she would have been one of those people who would have ignored the holiday season, only marking it because of her irritation with stores and restaurants being closed. Now, here she was, holding onto a holiday that had passed almost three months ago just because the people she worked with weren’t back to share a meal and open presents. It was ridiculous. Tony and Clint were right, although she would never tell them that, and she needed to toughen up and move on.

“Clint, I think…” Lauren started but was interrupted by the opening of the elevator door.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Lauren dropped the box she was carrying and threw herself at the people she had been missing for so long.

“James! Steve! Nat!” Lauren tried, and failed to hug them all at once. Then she realized that she should have been told the minute they were on the way. Her joy at seeing them turned into confusion, and then irritation. “How did I not know you were coming?” she punctuated the question by jamming her fists into her hips.

Bucky threw his arm around her shoulders, “Now, don’t be mad, doll. A little bird told us that you missed us, and we thought we’d surprise you.”

“A little bird, hmmm,” Lauren glared at Clint, one eyebrow raised. “A little bird might find himself plucked if he keeps it up.”

“We missed you too, _Sestrenka_.” Natasha drifted past them and slipped onto the loveseat near the tree.

“Then I might just forgive a little bird. This time.” Lauren laughed and hugged Bucky and Steve before they all took up space around the Christmas tree.

“You know, I was just about to tell Clint that it was time to take this down when you showed up.” Lauren couldn’t help smiling, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “But don’t tell Stark, he’ll never let me forget it.”

“And I won’t!” The man himself burst into the room, trailed by Bruce and Thor.

“My friends!” Lauren swore Thor’s voice got louder every time he came back. “It is good to see you, but is not this celebration out of season? The time for Yule has passed and soon we celebrate the coming of Spring.”

An “I told you so” look came from both Tony and Clint, but Lauren ignored them. At least Bruce didn’t gang up on her too. In fact, he took it on himself to explain.

“Thor, Lauren wanted us all to be together for the Christmas celebration, and when we couldn’t be, she sorta put Christmas on hold for us. A family Christmas that most of us never had.”

“A noble purpose, indeed. Lady Lauren, I knew you had the strength of a warrior, now I know you also have the heart of a queen.” In the most old fashioned, courtly way Lauren could have ever imagined, Thor closed the distance between them and raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

“So, now that Sir Lancelot here has made us all look like teenagers at their first adult party, let’s get this Christmas going.” Tony clapped his hands in glee. “Everyone has one hour to finish stuffing stockings, get changed, and get ready to party. Put on your New Year’s Eve outfits and meet back here. We’re going to celebrate everything at once. FRIDAY, how about some food?”

“The order for a full Christmas dinner is being placed as we speak, sir.”

One hour and five minutes later, Lauren walked into the common room to find everyone gathered, and a dining table set with more food than she would have ever thought could be prepared and delivered so quickly. Apparently, when Tony Stark spoke, people listened. The meal was noisy, filled with the sounds of teasing and banter, and everything that Lauren didn’t know she had missed for so many years. When they were finished and had cleaned up, they moved to where several chairs and another loveseat had been pulled up to the tree.

“Stockings first!” Lauren instructed, taking the lead in this part of the celebration. “Wait until everyone has theirs and then start opening.”

Thor handed Lauren her own, very heavy, stocking as the others were passed around by Clint and Steve. When they all were settled, there was quiet for a split second, then there was pandemonium as paper was shredded and sounds of appreciation filled the air. Steve loved his pencils, and Bucky started trying out some of lines in his book almost immediately. Lauren watched in wonder as the people known as “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” became a pack of children. Even Natasha dropped some of her legendary impassivity to show some excitement over the small gifts in her hands.

“What about you, Sherlock, what did Santa leave you?” Tony winked.

Lauren realized she hadn’t opened anything yet. She had only been watching them. She reached for the box she knew would be there and pulled it out. She untied the ribbon slowly, and pulled the blue paper back carefully so it wouldn’t tear.

“Oh, God!” Clint moaned, “She’s one of those!”  

“One of what?” Lauren shot back.

“Just rip it, for crying out loud. Neatness doesn’t count with presents.” Clint’s agitation only made Lauren want to move more slowly.

Finally she had the box unwrapped, and opened the lid. Inside lay a magnifying glass, sterling silver with something engraved on the handle. She lifted it out to read it. _“The work is its own reward.”_ It was one of her favorite Sherlock Holmes quotes, and it was the last thing she had said to Bruce when she had invaded the lab and outsmarted Tony almost nine months before. She wondered if he had watched that footage. The grin on his face and the wink that he shot her told her that he had, and that he respected her for outsmarting him so early.

“So, presents now!” Tony seemed eager to attack the small mountain that lay at their feet. “How are we going to do this?”

They all looked to Lauren for guidance. “Oh, no! I’m not going to be the one who kills the buzz. You all know how I’d do it. Just dive in children, and we’ll do show and tell later.”

She watched as gifts large and small started being handed out around the room. From somewhere Tony had procured a Santa hat, red and gold naturally, and was happily playing his part. The floor was quickly littered with paper and bows and gifts were being stacked up next to chairs and on the tables. It reminded Lauren of family Christmases she once knew, back when grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins had crowded into a room that displayed much the same scene. Lauren saw Bucky take out his phone.

“Hey,” she whispered, “put that away and open your gifts.”

“In a minute,” he chuckled back, “but first,” he held out the screen, displaying the selfie that Tony had taken on Christmas morning. “Lucy, you got some ‘splaining to do,” his imitation of the legendary Cuban almost flawless.

“Oh, shit, I really shouldn’t have introduced you to “I Love Lucy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. 
> 
> You can view Lauren's dress here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/9nlyjn5nqhczfmk/New%20Year.PNG?dl=0   
> I would love to own this dress, but hey, a teacher's salary only goes so far :-)
> 
> ... and keep reading in this universe. This is not the last we will see of this pair. They have some things to get through, but it will all work out. I promise, the epilogue has already been written. After all, the end is the beginning... 
> 
> Happy New Year!


End file.
